


The Flesh is Weak

by Axtin



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axtin/pseuds/Axtin
Summary: Wilhelm wants what he can't have.It ruins him.





	The Flesh is Weak

**Author's Note:**

> (See the end of the work for proper author notes)
> 
> Wanted to slap a warning on this that this fic deals with some body hatred / dysphoria in a way that could potentially be upsetting. It also features some character-canon poor treatment of the character Claptrap and if that is particularly upsetting to you, this fic might not be for you. 
> 
> Unbeta'd and written in one sitting, I just had to get this out. Sorry for the quality, or lack thereof.

Wilhelm liked to drink for many reasons. Some of them are fairly obvious. He’s a bounty hunter on Pandora for fucks sake; you have to take the edge off somehow if you don’t want your head to proverbially or literally explode. Some reasons are slightly less obvious and Wilhelm’s pretty sure only Wolf and Saint have seen him when he’s angrily clawing at his skin and ranting about the man he’s going to be one day. Drinking gave him an excuse for the night he had felt so mad and disgusted at himself, his body, he yelled at Wolf for the first time in his life. It just wasn’t fucking fair, and Wilhelm couldn’t stand it. He’d yelled at Wolf until he turned hoarse, about how unfair life was when he couldn’t be as perfect and wonderful as his drones. He wanted to be fast, he wanted to be deadly, he wanted to shine and glint in the sun of Pandora like shiny beautiful chrome. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Wilhelm’s life wasn’t fair because no matter what he trained himself to do, whatever limits he pushed his fleshy body he hated so much, he would never reach their level of…magnificence. Wolf and Saint were perfect, they were beautiful. He loved them in a way he knew should probably shame him, would shame him if someone else found out. Thankfully, when Wolf gently (too gently) asked what it could do for its Alpha, Wilhelm fell back on the excuse of being drunk. Wolf of course accepted and Saint chimed in with various remedies for hangovers. Drinking allowed Wilhelm to mercifully pass out when his disgust for his body gets to an almost painful level, where he’d melt off his skin and replace it with wires, with metal, with guns, at that very moment if he could.  But drinking doesn’t solve problems, not really. It keeps them at bay until the morning where he wakes up with a throbbing headache and shame thick on his tongue. He’s still flesh and blood and he’s angry about it. He’s angry and he has no place to put his anger and shame, as he crawls out of bed and to the nearest bar, Wolf and Saint powered on and following behind him.

He had no place to put his anger, his shame and jealousy. No place that is, until he met Claptrap.

 

* * *

 

 

Wolf sees him first. Wolf sees everything first, that being a not insignificant part of Wolf’s job when it comes to killing anything in sight that might come to hurt their Alpha. The red drone gave the whistle and click Wilhelm had taught it to give whenever his nightmare came rolling into view, and sure enough, Wilhelm could already feel the headache building behind his eyes when that fucking tin can burst through the bar doors.

Claptrap took a few moments, waving cheerfully and saying hello to several patrons of the bar that seemed about as excited to see him as they would be a rabid scag, before he set sight on Wilhelm’s tiny little table shoved as far back as he could find in case this exact damn situation happened to arise (it somehow seemed to arise quite a bit).  The little bot gave a yell, sending immediate lancing pain through Wilhelm’s head, rolling over to him as fast as possible, waving those twig arms.

“Heeeeeeeeeey! It’s Willy! Imagine meeting you here!  You and the boys off to kill some bandits today? I could help you know, I’m always up for helping! We did some excellent work back on Elpis, huh Willy! How are you, lads? It’s been a while! You all keeping well? How are the wife and kids? Ha! I’m just kidding, we all know you couldn’t find a lady friend if she was-“

Gritting his teeth and standing up quickly, Wilhelm whistled for Saint and Wolf to follow and made to get as far away from Claptrap as possible, giving exactly zero shits as to whether the robot was mid conversation or not. Claptrap was always in the middle of some damn conversation, and none of it was worth Wilhelm’s time. His head throbbed angrily with the remnants of last night’s drinking, and the grinding of his teeth did nothing to help, Claptrap’s voice prattling on in his head as he followed Wilhelm out the door, half way through some joke about his mother.

  
“-because your mama’s a Skag! Hahahaha! Willy, you get it? A skag! Oh man, that was funny! Ah…. Anyways Willy you sure you don’t want me to come bash some bandit skulls with you? You know I’m good for it! There’s a reason you’re only the second best Hunter around these parts you know. I’d be glad to help you and your posse out annnnnytime, so long as you’re cool with following orders of course.  I’m being super gracious and willing to help you know? You should be thanking me! Thank me, Willy! Tha-“

That’s it. That’s the last he can take.

Spinning around so quickly he swears he feels his head _sloshing,_ Wilhelm stops so suddenly Claptrap bumps right into his leg.

“Ow! Willy, you ok there? What gives, man?”

His body’s on fire, the booze from last night and the few from the bar he just had are coursing through his veins and he feels disgust for himself, for Claptrap, for both of them bubbling up inside him threatening to spill out if he doesn’t make this fucking robot shut up right this instance.

“Do you want to die?”

It’s a simple question, delivered with the deadpan voice and total lack of humor Wilhelm is known for, but somehow Claptrap manages to take it as a joke. He’s in the process of laughing it off and making some off the color remark, probably about Wilhelm’s mother again, when that bubbling and roiling disgust comes tearing out and Wilhelm is screaming with every inch of power in his sizable chest and lungs.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL. YOU.”

The god damn incessant prattling finally stops. Claptrap’s stopped talking, leaving Wilhelm to suffer the constant throbbing of his head in silence, the two staring at each other , one with nerves and one with anger.

“Aha…. Ah, having a bad day huh, Willy.” Claptrap finally breaks the silence, rolling back slightly and putting some distance between the two. “Why didn’t you just say so! I’ll go find Athena or something, it’s no big deal. We’re still best of friends, Willy! Don’t worry about it if you’re a little off today. I’ll always know how you feel about me, deep down!”

 

It was at that point, Wilhelm’s stomach dropped out and the most painful throb he’d felt all day happened well, well south of his head.

“What the fuck did you just say, you god damn _idiot???”_

Claptrap rolled a little farther back, chuckling nervously. He’d never seen Wilhelm’s eyes blown out like this, glassy and filled with what could only be described as fear.

“I said, I’ll always know how you feel about me! Deep down inside.”

A second throb, followed by a third.

He could barely feel his headache at this point, pushed back far in his mind for more horrendously pressing matters.

Wilhelm could feel the embarrassingly hot flush creeping up his face, and that disgust, bubbling and hot and  ready to force its way out of his throat churned and tossed and he had to get out of here. He had to get out of here right now, he had to.

 

_I know how you feel about me, you disgusting meat bag! You’re pathetic, aren’t you! Ahahahaha!_

 

Wilhelm didn’t even know how exactly he got to his vehicle, clamoring with the keys as his hands shook and his crotch pulsed in his pants with every fucking word that robot said repeated over and over again.

 

_I’ll always know how you feel_

_I’ll always know how you feel_

_I’ll always know how you feel about me!_

_Deep…deep down…._

“Alpha, the coordinates for the bandits we were meant to be hunting are south of here. We’re heading the wrong way” Wolf said, as it followed with Saint behind the car, keeping the brisk pace.

“Alpha?” Wolf asked, mild concern in its voice when it came to realize that Wilhelm was sobbing.

 

* * *

 

 

The empty gas station in the middle of the Badlands was where Wilhelm usually went to sleep when he didn’t have anywhere better to go and the dysphoria got bad. He wasn’t one to be worried about bandits, not when Saint and Alpha constantly patrolled and Wilhelm was well equipped to protect himself from the average run of the mill skag sucker. The place had been totally emptied out and well ransacked ages ago, and all that was left in it was a broken down bed spring and about half of a mattress left. It was quiet and lonely and if anyone happened to stumble upon him in the middle of one of his episodes, Wilhelm would just kill him. Or Wolf would. It was the only place Wilhelm could think of to go at this point in time and he desperately needed to come apart as soon as possible. Of all the billions of possible voices stuck in your head in a moment of crisis, Claptrap’s was among the very last Wilhelm would have chosen.

 

_Ohohoho is it now, buddy? I think you like it! I know how you feel about me!_

 

A wave of nausea hit Wilhelm like a truck, and it was all he could do to practically fall out of his car and drag himself to the gas station door. His crotch hurt so badly, trapped inside his pants throbbing with want ( _oh my fucking god)_ and shame. “Wolf, Saint. Set up perimeter guard. Please.”

“You ok there, Alpha?”

Saint. Of course Saint would be worried with Wilhelm practically crawling in the dirt crying and nursing a boner over fucking Claptrap.

 

( _Aw, don't be like that! I know how you feel about me..._ )

 

“I’ll be fine, I just. Need to be alone. Man the perimeter, boys.”

The abandoned gas station was blissfully cool and empty and Wilhelm almost whimpered in relief as he all but collapsed on what counted for a bed on Pandora. His skin itched, his nails too blunt and dull to make much of an impact as he scratched up and down his arms. The shame washed over him in waves as he sadly considered his erection, a sign of everything he’d tried so hard to deny even in the face of undeniable proof. His dysphoria had two parts. He wanted to be perfect, strong like a robot

_Like me! I know what you feel about me!_

but that wasn’t in the cards. Not now, maybe not ever.

 

Robots were stronger, they were faster, they had technology he never would. He dug at his skin and he cursed and cursed because he was weak. He was fleshy and soft and pathetic and even someone like _him_

_Like me!_

was above him, even if just by proxy of being a robot.

 

He hated Claptrap. He hated him so much, he burned with anger and the desire to rip apart because Claptrap was pathetic, he was obnoxious and annoying and no one liked being with him or around him for any period of time. Wilhelm was not the brightest guy, but even he managed to be stunned into utter rage at how oblivious Claptrap was to people who couldn’t stand him, Wilhelm included. There was absolutely nothing that Wilhelm could stand about Claptrap, he made him sick.

 

But Claptrap was a robot.

And Wilhelm was not.

And that mattered to Wilhelm.

 

The throbbing had only gotten worse thinking about Claptrap. It made him nauseous to think about, but Wilhelm knew he had to do something about his dick. He wasn’t the type of guy to have any real particular feelings about his penis, it was just kinda there and prone to annoying random boners at times, where he would usually just find a rock to go behind and deal with it. Sex with other people held less than zero interest to him, it just wasn’t how he was wired. Like all other soft and fleshy parts of his body, he had some amount of disdain for it because it wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t sleek and shiny metal and it made him weak in ways that robots weren’t weak.  He could shit on Claptrap all he wanted, but the robot never got boners he had to run away from a conversation in shame with.

 

_I GIVE the boners, ahaha! I give YOU the boners, Willy. Oh! Willy! AHHAHAHA!! GET IT?_

 

Wincing at the fucking Claptrap brand humor even in his sex fantasies, Wilhelm fumbled weakly with his pants. He wasn’t exactly the greatest at this, but it had to be done. Sliding out of his pants he palmed the painful hardness in his boxers and squeezed, taking a moment to think about how to proceed.

He could always think about Wolf or Saint. His drones are safe, they’d both been with him for years and they were a rare being that actually liked him and wanted to protect him. If he asked them, they would help him in any way possible, even if it came down to helping Alpha with his boner. Saint had those pretty eyes drawn on ages ago (Wilhelm might have been drunk) and it wasn’t like Saint was needed to maintain a secure perimeter, Wolf was more than enough. Saint was beautiful and graceful and made Wilhelm feel good in ways he’d never felt before, Saint could certainly help with this problem. He wasn’t sure either of his drones was exactly equipped for dirty talk, but Wilhelm had jerked through worse and gotten it over with.

Saint will help… oh thank God, Saint will help.

 

_You aren’t thinking about Saint, Wilhelm. And you know it._

 

Wilhelm bit his tongue at the thought so hard he tasted blood. Dear God he’s pathetic. He’s so god damn pathetic, he’s nothing but meat and bones and sad little pieces and he’s going to fucking jerk it to Claptrap.

He wants to. He wants to so badly. It sickens him. It arouses him.

He closes his eyes and imagines himself on the ground, on the dirt. Claptrap’s wheel is on his stomach pressing hard and he’s so hard and throbbing he wants to throw up. Then his wheel is on Wilhelm’s face and he’s licking it, licking it clean. Anything, anything for the robot, inherently better and more beautiful and he’s sorry, god he’s so sorry.

 

 _Forgivemeforgivemeforgiveme god please,  forgive me. I’m nothing, I’m_ disgusting _, I’m skin and meat, forgive me oh god I don’t deserve you. Even you are above me. Put me down, I’m pathetic, I'm disgusting, just a meat bag, just a sad fucking meat bag, crushmecrushmecrushme_

Wilhelm hissed as he tugs hard on his aching dick, not even noticing it’s begun to leak at this point, all it taking was the thought of his face tearstained and snotty beneath Claptrap’s wheel as he begged to be put in his place.  He’s picturing Claptrap’s hand shoved down his throat, making him gag and retch as Claptrap giggles

 

_Maybe you should shut up for once, human._

 

Wilhelm’s nodding furiously, throat aching and raw and his dick is so hard. There’s snot and tears everywhere, wet moist weakness a robot wouldn’t make. Claptrap doesn’t cry, and that makes him better than Wilhelm. Robots don’t cry, robots are beautiful, god why won’t Wilhelm ever be beautiful.

_I know how you feel about me, deep down inside. You’re so mean because you’re jealous! Aw, Willy. I still like you! I’ll still use you Willy! Sad little flesh bag, it’s gonna be ok. Awww, Willy. It hurts, doesn’t it._

Claptrap’s hand is on his dick, it’s rough and shouldn’t feel good but he’s helping. He’s helping Wilhelm with his weak pathetic body and Wilhelm’s sobbing, doesn’t even realize he’s saying his thank yous out loud to the empty gas station, babbling and crying, his whole body convulsing as he pulls, and pulls and pulls with Claptrap’s ‘ help’ until it’s over. His cum is warm in his hand and he gags. Everything warm and fluid is wrong. He hates it.

“Disgusting” he whimpers, curling up on the broken down bed, letting the sobs wrack his body. He lays there for what feels like an eternity, burning and itching and ashamed. Looking down at his flagging erection he thinks to compare it to smooth yellow and white plating, without blemish and without flaw. Jealous anger returns, it’s not fucking fair. It’s not fucking fair someone like Claptrap gets to be that… beautiful.

He teeters between anger and reverence. He doesn’t know which way to go with Claptrap. He’s taken both ways for different reasons, each coming back to his disgust for himself. Wilhelm wants what he can’t have, what Claptrap was made with from the start. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.

He starts slightly when the door opens slightly, relaxing back against the bed when he sees it’s just Saint.

“Alright there, Alpha? Need assistance?”

Wilhelm nods slightly, wiping his nose and trying to sit up. Saint reaches him quickly to see what aid it can dispense to him at this time.

“Thanks, Saint.”

“Anything for you, Alpha. You’re the man.”

The words setting in his head like lead bullets. It's just how life is.

_Yeah. I’m the man._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first ever properly written and ever published piece so. That's that lol.
> 
> I find this pairing properly fascinating and it has a lot of potential to delve into a lot of issues, my main favorite being Wilhelm's body dysphoria and how badly he wants to be a robot (the driving cause for his over the top horrendous treatment of Claptrap in my opinion). I think neither of these characters get a ton of depth in canon (especially not Wilhelm) which means I can write and day dream! So yay! 
> 
> Also apologies if I didn't get Claptrap's voice down as well as it could be, he's a surprisingly difficult voice to get down well without going over the edge... even if that edge is much further than for other characters. I tried to make it as authentic as possible, again. First fic -x-;
> 
> I know this was a weird fic, and I'm sure all of two people will even read it let alone enjoy it, but hey. I wanted a fic about Wilhelm's body dysphoria and no one else was clamoring to do it. 
> 
> Sorry I was too chicken to do a proper two-way relationship fic where Claptrap was privy lol. But that would be pretty damn fascinating. 
> 
> Anyways, this exists now! For better or for worse.


End file.
